


Coalition Talks

by Deino_Galerix (orphan_account)



Series: Out of character politics [3]
Category: Politics - Fandom
Genre: Crack/Craic, F/F, Homophobia in the form of the DUP, Implied Sectarianism, In which nobody is straight even openly homophobic first ministers, In which the Northern Irish First Minister isn't as straight as she thought., OOC politicians as usual, Swearing, denied homosexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-06-30 08:23:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15747927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Deino_Galerix
Summary: Arlene Foster realises something about herself that she's been subconsciously masking for a very long time.





	1. The Prime Minister and some Buckfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Arlene's POV

Success. Arlene had formed a coalition government with Theresa May!  
Could this year get any better?

Apparently it could, since she's now gotten away with not doing her job for months!

What a great year for the DUP.

The only thing that'd make the year better for Arlene was if the Prime Minister came to her door and--  
' No, no. The DUP doesn't stand for such.. Such homosexual things, ' Arlene thought.

'After all, we're the reason they can't get married here!' That thought always seemed to make her feel better.

 

Theresa May did come to the door later.  
Though, not in the scenario that awful part of her brain had imagined.

 

She'd come, not for coalition talks, but for advice.

Advice about a certain German Chancellor, Merkel.

For some reason, that made Arlene sick to the stomach.

She didn't quite know why, but she'd elected to ignore it and pour the prime minister some buckfast. 

For some bizarre reason, Theresa was concerned about Arlene after a few minutes.

The First Minister excused herself to the bathroom, and when she'd gotten there she realised how pale and sweaty she was.  
No wonder the Prime Minister was so concerned!

..But Arlene hadn't felt ill today.  
Not until the mention of Angela Merkel, anyway..

Was she.. No, Arlene couldn't be jealous..

She sighed, touching up her makeup and hoping for the best.

Just how was she going to do this?


	2. Concern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theresa POV

' Is the First Minister ok? ' Was Theresa's first thought.

' Maybe I should have asked before visiting, she's probably ill and let me in only out of politeness. ' Was Theresa's second thought.

She absentmindedly sipped at the 'buckfast' Arlene had provided, whatever that was.  
..It tasted like Ribena. And sugary cough medicine, somehow.

But if Arlene liked it, it's probably not completely awful, so Theresa continued to drink.

For god's sake, if she got drunk a second time and--

Of course that wouldn't happen, Arlene is the most homophobic politician in the entirety of the United Kingdom!

But then, Merkel isn't exactly pro-homosexual either.

Maybe it would be best for Theresa not to question or think about it, and just drink the buckfast.

The.. very strong buckfast.

Wait, wasn't this the one on the news for 'Violent Drunkenness'?

Theresa drank.

She's sure she won't be 'violently drunk', and the Buckfast is starting to taste better.

 

Before Theresa took another sip, Arlene returned.  
She was slightly less ill-looking, thank goodness, but Theresa suspected this was due to makeup rather than an actual improvement.

"What d'you think of the drink?" Arlene asked when she'd sat down again.

"It's quite lovely, Arlene, thank you."

"What was it about Merkel, by th'way, that you wanted to talk about?"

"On second thoughts, I don't think I should.."

"No worries, Theresa, It's not like you've gone an' shagged her, right?"

Theresa paused for a minute.

"..Of course, you're right..!"

The Prime Minister sipped yet more buckfast. Why was she finding it difficult to lie to Arlene? She's a fellow conservative, not a Labour Skeptic, for god's sake..  
Maybe it was the sincere, kind look on her face--

Arlene's accented voice interrupted her train of thought.

"Well, what was it?"

"It's mostly stress to tell you the truth, Arlene. Over Brexit, and how difficult Merkel's being over it." Theresa felt a lot better saying it.

"Well, I'll always be here for ya, Theresa. No bother."

"Thank you, Arlene. And I'm sorry for coming unannounced." Theresa stood.

"..Y'know, you don't have to be going so soon, Theresa!" Arlene said, a little too quickly.

"Pardon?"

"You've not got to go, I have plenty of buckfast, and we can just have a chat, maybe a little banter, eh?"

"That sounds lovely, Arlene!"

Theresa sat back down in the rather comfortable chair.

"While you're at the buckfast, d'you want anything to eat?"

"No thank you, Arlene."

"Are you sure? I'm making myself some chips.."

"I'm sure, Arlene! No worries!"

 

Arlene smiled, but Theresa had no idea why.

The woman in question heads into the kitchen, leaving Theresa with the wine.


	3. Oven Chips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlene makes herself some oven chips, and receives a phonecall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arlene POV

Arlene's phone rang.

"The cry was no surrender, Surrender or you'll di--"

She picked up.

"Hello, this is First Minister Arlene Foster speaking."

It was none other than her MP Nigel Dodds.

"Hi, Arlene. People're starting to protest over our whole not-doing-our-job thing."

"Oh, really? Are the peelers involved?"

"The police are involved, yes," Nigel said. "There's also counter-protesters, you know, our people!"

"For fuck's sake Nigel, if you do your thing again and someone throws a brick at you.."

"Don't worry, I only saw it on the news," The background noise on Nigel's phone was mostly running-footsteps. "It isn't like I'm going to head over there just 'cause it's happening!"

Arlene sighed. "Thanks for letting me know, Nigel."

"Bye!" She hung up.

 

Now, how were Arlene's oven chips doing?

Actually, great. As the oven beeped, Arlene took the chips.

However, she'd neglected to wear oven gloves. Not so great.

"Ah, fuckin'.."

This had landed Arlene a large burn on her palm and fingertips.

Hopefully Theresa wouldn't notice and be even more concerned.

 

At least Arlene hadn't dropped the chips, right?


	4. Not another chapter

(I'm sorry guys i don't have any motivation to continue this story but you can add your own twist to it if you like)


End file.
